Peter Petigrew my story
by Josie Gibbons
Summary: Marauder Era, from wormtails perspective. first chapter is an intro to the character as i see it. please read and review, and if i ge reviews, you get updates. rating for safety


This is my first Marauder fic, so I don't actually know how its going to turn out. I guess I can only try my best and hopefully it'll work out okay. I'm not going to do anything about James as far as I know, because its been done too much. Instead, I think what I really want to look at is wormtail as Peter, and how he saw things. This may be long, or it may not. I haven't decided yet...

Oh, and fyi... I'm writing this on OpenOffice, since I downloaded it yesterday, and i'm already loving it XD

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, Peter, or any of the marauders... unfortunately...

Chapter One:

I'd always been a bit weird as a child. Wanting always to be a part of everything, but never being aloud. I was always the outsider, the one no-one wanted around, the one who was scorned for being different, boring, untalented.

I grew up in a magical family, but I was never the most popular. I was always left behind, slow, because I never knew much of magic. It wasn't until I was nine before I first showed any sign that I was even magical at all, and I think I resented that. While I was having all these problems, my brilliant cousin was levitating things when she was three years old, and my father started whipping up potions in the back garden before he could walk. What was I, this little nothing child, doing in such an amazing family, you might ask. Luck, that's what. Pure luck landed me there, and genetic muddling.

Not that I think I really have any reason to complain about the genetic muddling, because I don't doubt for a second that had I not come from my family, had I not been born in to greatness, I would have stayed friendless until the day I died. As it was, it was my families reputation which landed me my place in Gryffindor, and through that what landed me my friends. My friends, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and James Potter, the three best friends anyone could wish for. We, between us, made up the marauders, and I don't think I've ever been happier than when I was with them. But good things always come to an end, and in the end the bigger bully won, like I always knew he would. I killed my best friends. I'll always regret it, because it broke my heart when I found out they were gone. I always believed that they would survive, that he would kill the child but leave them, and that would never have done me any harm. After all, what's the loss of one child when you can have millions more. But I never judged on James love for his family, or Lilly's loyalty to her child, and then they were gone. All but the child, the one I had never cared for, the one I wanted dead because I was afraid he would take away from me. I'll admit that now, that it was that fear which kept me from liking him. I was always their friend, the little one they looked after because I was unable to care for myself. And then it all changed, and there was little baby Harry for them to look after, and then I was nothing. And I'll admit I resented him more than anyone else in the world, more than my brilliant father, or the people who scorned me growing up, or my incredible cousin who everyone thought would grow on to do wonders. Killing her was the greatest thing which I ever did, the most proud moment of my life. Horrible and cruel it may be, but it still made me feel like the greatest person in the world. The fact that I, little Peter Pettigrew, who never amounted to anything, could kill her, Elizabeth Rosemary Pettigrew, top of her year in Hogwarts and brilliant witch to boot. It was, and always will be, the most proud moment of all my life, and I don't think I'll ever regret it.

Though I hate to admit it, I do have one little confession. Before I died, when I met Harry Potter for the last time, I regretted his decision to kill his parents, and not for myself. I regretted it for him, because seeing this young man so grown up reminded me so much of his father at the time, and how similar they are. It could have been James for all the difference, and I thought it was for a second, before my senses kicked in. And then, then I realised my mistake, and I wished he was dead again.

Okay, so this is just an introduction to the character as I see him. The rest of the story, provided I get reviews, will focus around his school days, and the time after, and will possibly be more factual than this piece. But I'm not going to post any more, or maybe even bother writing, until I have the reviews, because without them I just have no real inspiration...


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